Incredulous
by Forget-To-Breathe
Summary: As the rebellion spirals out of control, the Quarter Quell calls for this year's tributes to be reaped from the existing pool of victors. With no female victor from District 12, a girl will be chosen at random. When Primrose's name is called, Katniss takes her place and adds more fuel to the fire, catching not only the eyes of the entire nation, but also one peculiar man's heart.
1. Chapter 1

**MUST READ AUTHOR'S NOTE!**

**Hey guys, this Finnick/Katniss fanfic will be replacing my last one, because I think the idea's more interesting than the last one I started writing. I wanted to explain it before you started reading it, because it strays from the canon and would be confusing otherwise. Firstly, it's time for the Quarter Quell, and it's the same. All previous victors will be reaped because past victors have started to rebel along with their districts. But Prim was never reaped, therefor Katniss never participated in the Hunger Games. And because District Twelve had no living female victor, normal girls will be reaped from the ages of 12-18 to make up for it, causing Prim to get reaped, which makes Katniss volunteer. So the idea kind of blows up in Snow's face because of this. I hope you all give this a chance, despite how bizarre this idea seems, and I hope you enjoy it :)**

**Disclaimer: If I owned THG, would I be writing fanfictions?**

**[IF YOU DID NOT READ A/N READ IT NOW!]**

* * *

Snow's icy blue eyes bore into the plasma-screen television in front of them. He analyzes every detail of this girl. This _tribute_. From the stance in which she holds herself, down to the flecks of gold that glimmer in those silvery eyes of hers. He wants to write her off, label her as a weakling, a bloodbath. But the nagging voice inside his ancient head bounces throughout his skull, refusing to be ignored.

Dangerous. This girl is dangerous.

Skilled, perhaps not? Only time will tell. But weapons don't always secure life. It's defiance. Pure willpower controlling one's crave for freedom and survival. And that's what scares him. Despite her scrawny, lithe figure, lies a fire bright as hell itself, ready to devour everything in its path. And currently, he's the only one holding her back. He's going to be her next target.

The first one, the trembling young blonde, Snow doesn't have a problem with. She'd be the first to die, he's sure of it. But the girl -_Katniss_- stepped out of line, catching not only his eyes, but also the eyes of the entire nation of Panem.

"I'd be worried if I were you." pipes up the soft, silky voice of his granddaughter, Jade. For a second he's startled. Her eyes, icy blue, so much like his own, reflect the same perilous flame shone in _that girl's_ eyes. Of course, it's always been there. His granddaughter should not be underestimated. Just like her mother. Snow has to remind himself that she's loyal. Always has been. Always will be. Doesn't mean he'll take his eyes off her. Just like _that girl_. He'll keep a good eye on the two of them. A spark is tolerable as long as it's contained.

"Or not," she continues, standing up from the crimson couch which reeks of blood and roses, his signature scent, "There are twenty-three others. They're not children, grandfather, they're experienced killers. She might be the least of your worries." And with that, she's gone, leaving Snow's thoughts racing a mile per second.

She has a way of doing that. Saying barely anything, yet succeeding in muddling her victim's thoughts. If anyone can mess with Snow's mind, it's Jade. They're so similar, yet so different, it's frightening.

A spark is tolerable as long as it's contained.

He'll just have to keep the two of them contained.

* * *

Katniss lays her palm against the frigid cold glass. She rests her forehead against it for balance, her breath tickling the window, fogging it up and obscuring her vision. She watches the trees zip by, god knows how fast, her eyes straining because of the close proximity. She pulls away, taking her hand with her, the sweat from her nerves momentarily leaving behind a shadowy figure of it before it vanishes.

She collapses onto the _way-too-comfortable-for-her-liking_ bed in a heap of anxiousness and stress, running her nimble fingers through her dark, chocolate-colored tresses frustratedly. Tears prick at her eyes as she dwells on the hopeless of her situation. She refuses to let them fall, because that would symbolize that all hope is gone. And all hope will never be gone as long as she has Prim, waiting for her at home.

"Katniss dear, it's dinner time." a shrill voice calls that can only belong to the one and only Effie Trinket. Katniss groans, flipping onto her stomach, she screams into a pillow. Though muffled, it still manages to sound loud and of a dying animal, shooing the Capitol airhead away. She listens to the sound of her ridiculous high heels click-clacking against the glossy hardwood floor of the train, getting quieter the farther and farther away she travels.

She makes up her mind, choosing to go stand up and enter into her bathroom to splash some water on her face. Katniss watches herself in the mirror as cool, stray droplets run down her face, falling into the white marble sink, each landing with a gracious _tap_. The water revives her, returning her from her sunken-eyed state, back into the stubborn teenager she should be. Her long locks spill around her, tumbling down to her waist. It had fallen out of the elaborate plaits her mother had done for her what feels like decades ago, when in reality, had only been but this morning. She decides to leave it down, not bothering to braid it over her shoulder in her usual fashion before exiting the compartment.

"Enjoy your nap, sweetheart?" the sarcastic voice of her fellow tribute, Haymitch asks, causing her to glower at him. She sits herself on the first seat she sees, grabbing a what looks to be, a nicely decorated cookie. Katniss hesitantly nibbles at it, flavor exploding her taste buds, before scarfing the rest down.

"Hungry?" he asks, Katniss practically sneers at him. For once he's not drunk, perhaps because he's a competitor in this wonderful game himself. If he wasn't, he'd probably be wasted at this very second, a major factor in District Twelve's shortage of victors.

"Yes," she says flatly. "And this surprises you?" Haymitch chuckles to himself, sliding some brisket onto his plate.

"You're not going to go down easy, are you sweetheart?" She shakes her head. "Good," he continues. "Maybe the two of us should team up, we'd last longer that way."

Katniss scoffs, "Me and you? A team? Yeah, something tells me that might not work out." Haymitch's dark grey eyes narrow into tiny slits as he glares at her, making Katniss feel slightly unnerved.

"Well girly, there are twenty-three of us who have already gone through this, and _won_. And you, _you're_ the only amateur. I'd watch my back if I were you, because there's a glowing red target on it just waiting to be shot at." He grabs his plate of brisket, and then he's gone.

_Well_, Katnkss thinks bitterly, _that went wonderfully._

* * *

**Thanks for reading you guys, leave a review if you liked it, or even if you didn't like it, I'd like to hear what you have to say. Anyways thanks again. Also, I'm going to say this once last time, IF YOU DID NOT READ THE AUTHOR'S NOTE AT THE BEGINNING OF THE STORY READ IT NOW! **

**You guys are amazing,**

**-Tris :)**


	2. Chapter 2

Dinner with Effie Trinket isn't exactly Katniss's idea of fun. Haymitch has been absent since his outburst, and Effie had came in only a few moments later. Neither had seen him since. Katniss eats her lamb stew in silence, while the escort rambles on about everything and anything that enters that dense little brain of hers. Katniss feels like killing herself now, to save someone the trouble later. It'd sure beat listening to Effie. She decides to just suck it up, for Prim's sake.

"-and then he told me 'The blouse you ordered, Miss, only comes in turquoise and cerulean.' I thought I was going to die. I needed it in cobalt, or else I'd end up the laughingstock of the entire party. And do you know who was going to be there?-" Katniss rolls her eyes. Does she ever shut up? She listens to the _tick tick tick_ of the wooden grandfather clock against the wall, the only thing keeping her from going insane._  
_

"Oh, not cerulean!" Katniss looks up to see Haymitch enter the dining cart, feigning a gasp. She suppresses a smile. Effie's mouth forms a firm line as she gently places her fork on a napkin.

"You're late, Haymitch." she rebukes with pursed lips. He shrugs carelessly.

"Technically I was early. Came for seconds." His steely grey eyes flick over to Katniss's as he fills a new plate with more brisket. "Isn't that right, Katniss?" She nods sharply. "We were talking about how moronic it was to refuse my offer for an alliance. I doubt too many other people will want to protect you, sweetheart." She glowers at him.

"Haymitch!" Effie chides. He doesn't faze.

"No matter how high and mighty you think you are, in reality you're just another twig from District Twelve in hope of winning this damn game and returning home like nothing happened. Want some advice? Embrace the fact that your imminent death is only days away, and there is honestly nothing-" He stops as he notices a steel steak knife sticking out of the table between two of his splayed fingers.

"That is _mahogany_!" Effie shrieks. Neither of them care.

"Can you stab other things besides tables, sweetheart?" Katniss answers him by throwing another knife at the wall behind him, just barely missing his ear, and sticking between two wooden panels.

"Damn," he mutters, looking at her impressively. "Any other secrets I should know about."

Katniss smiles devilishly.

"Probably."

* * *

Despite Effie's pleas and Haymitch's glares, Katniss didn't tell them anything about her bow.

The three of them stay in the lounge cart, propped up on velvet red couches in wait of the reapings to air. Effie continues her ramblings while Haymitch mouths "Oh my god!" to the ceiling. The Capitolite doesn't seem to notice, and Katniss just tries to block them out. After several long, agonizing minutes, the screen flickers to life and the room becomes eerily silent.

Caesar Flickerman and Claudius Templesmith joke back and forth, some sort of welcoming banter, before the camera view switches to the town square in District One.

The two are both volunteers. No surprise there. Katniss finds it frightening that they must be the most lethal of all the careers. The best of the best. Not only have they won this once, but they are actually _volunteering_ to go through this _again_. But that's not the worst thing. The two of them are siblings. Both volunteering with the knowledge that only one can come out alive, the other in a coffin. She tries to imagine herself competing alongside Prim, _wanting_ to be there with Prim. Katniss shudders. These are sick and twisted people she's dealing with, all with experience, and without one ounce of mercy.

She pulls her legs to her chest and rests her head on her knees. She notices Haymitch staring at her out of the corner of her eye, probably betting on when she'll begin to shake like a leaf. Her jaw locks but she refuses to act out. That's what he expects after all. Katniss isn't one to give someone that sort of satisfaction.

Two's just as bad. Once again the female's a volunteer. A pretty woman in her early thirties with long raven curls, tan skin, and cold dark eyes. Enobaria. The girl who won her Hunger Games by ripping the throats out of her victims. She vaguely remembers that year being extremely gruesome, her parents having to put her to bed early each night to keep her from watching the mandatory viewings. Two boys actually fight for their spot in the games. A man named Brutus, who's middle aged with graying brown hair. His muscles are still buff enough to snap off the head of any tribute in less than a second. She can't remember his games, not having been born yet, but she's sure it wasn't a snooze if he's willing to compete again. The spot ends up going to the other volunteer. Nineteen year old Cato Stone, victor of the Seventy-Forth Annual Hunger Games. His icy blue eyes glower at Brutus as the peacekeepers drag him away, struggling. She remembers his games as clear as day, especially the twelve year old from District Eleven. The one who reminded her so much of Prim. Katniss always associates Rue with Cato, her death being from the hands of the career himself. How she screamed in agony after getting trapped in a snare that snapped her calf in two, how strong the girl was not to pass out because of the pain. How her last words were, "You'll never truly win in the end." How confused Cato was before he sliced her head off clean with his sword. A gruesome yet painless death. He had stood before her lifeless figure, staring at her for several straight minutes with a bewildered look on his face -as if he couldn't quite recall what he had done only moments ago- before untangling her leg from the snare and placing a single daisy on her chest.

She still hates him down to the core. That day she had cried, and she had never cried for a tribute before. It was like watching her sister die, her innocence and purity gone into thin air, leaving behind a cold and empty shell. Another child stripped of life.

District Three isn't too memorable, but Four is.

A young woman with long dark tresses pulled back and tied with a green ribbon is reaped. She is completely petrified, body rigid, eyes wide with horror. A scream tears through her lungs, wild, like a dying animal's. Agonized and blood-curdling, it rings throughout the square and echoes inside the train, sending chills down Katniss's spine. All the other victors take a few cautious steps back, eyeing her like a mad woman, except for one girl. She looked to be in her late teens, no older than twenty, with curly bronze locks that just pass her shoulder. She's petite, and to say she is extremely gorgeous is an understatement. Wide, doll-like sea green eyes glimmer with a sweet innocence, a rarity for those who survive the games, and perfect tan skin most girls will die for. She runs up to the brunette and throws her arms around her, attempting to calm her down. Peacekeepers try to pry her off, kicking and screaming. "I volunteer! Let me go you morons, I said I volunteered!" The girl cries. As requested, they let her go and the brunette simply looks confused as the tiny girls runs onto the stage. "Veronica Odair." she says into the microphone confidently, a sweet smile on her face. Their escort then draws the male's name, Finnick Odair. Like a light switch her face changes, lips pressed in a firm line, wild gleam in her eye, but then she's back to her bubbly cute self. Like nothing ever happened. Katniss wonders if she merely imagined it.

And like his sister, Finnick is absolutely breathtaking. No lie. Same bronze hair, green eyes, and tan skin, but he's over six feet, with perfect toned muscles and an adorable crooked grin. He approaches the stage with the same confidence Veronica did. He throws an arm over her shoulder and the two of them smile and wink at the crowd. The two of them won't be short of any sponsors.

The rest of the reapings fly by, most of the victors older and not as threatening as the career districts. Katniss reminds herself not to underestimate anyone though, any of them could easily kill her. Only a few particularly stand out in her mind. The middle-aged male from District Five with the fiery red hair. His skin's a startling translucent tone, like he's never once seen the sun. Dark blue veins run from his wrists, up his forearms. One large one is pulsing on the side of his neck while a few smaller ones are visible on his temples. He wears a sadistic smirk on his face, and beady hazel eyes of almost every color imaginable shine with hate and malice. One thing is clear. The man is clearly psycho.

Then there's Johanna Mason, the last living female victor from District Seven. Cecilia from Eight with her three small children clinging to her legs, crying for her not to go.

And then there's Prim. Blonde braid swinging behind her back as she shakily approaches the stage, blue eyes glistening with tears. And then Katniss, screaming at the top of her lungs. She leaves the room then, because somehow watching this all on television makes the situation so much more real. And the reality isn't something she's ready to handle.

* * *

**Sorry this is kinda sloppy, I wanted to get this out for you guys. I hope you all enjoyed this. Kinda slow going, but don't all books start that way? What do you guys think, Finnick POV next? I think I'm going to have the two of them meet by Chapter 4, don't wanna rush it but I don't wanna keep you guys waiting either. I'd appreciate it if you guys reviewed, I am SOOOO pleased by how many reviews we go for the first chapter. ELEVEN! EEEP! I'd be ecstatic if we got twelve more, Panem's lucky number! Anyways a shout out to my reviewers.**

**_toritwilight504_**

**_Bellanater116_**

**_samiesimpson1_**

**_YO misma me gusto_**

**_TheFlipSide_**

**_it-doesn't-work_**

**_RileyUKnoWhoRox_**

**And of course my three lovely _guest_ reviewers! Thanks so much, it means the world to me :)**

**-Tris**


	3. Chapter 3

"Primrose Everdeen."

Finnick feels his heart drop at the sight her. She's small. So _so_ small. Dainty and frail, she tucks in the tail of her shirt and stumbles forward, terror filled eyes watching as the crowd thins before her, giving her a clear path to hell. She swallows timidly, tugging on the end of her long blonde braid as she hesitantly moves on towards the stage.

He tries to imagine facing her in the arena. Trying to kill her in the arena. One look into her giant blue eyes and instantly a wave of shame hits him.

He won't be able to kill her.

Someone else surely will. Gloss, Enobaria, Cashmere, Cato. They'll all happily oblige. The thought makes him want to puke. He turns towards his sister, her gaze anywhere but the screen. He can feel the national heartbreak as this girl gets closer and closer to the stage. The Capitol people must at least feel some remorse. Some recognition that this is all sick and twisted, morally wrong. Thirteen. She's but only thirteen. She looks as if she's ten, maybe even nine, with her thin, scrawny figure. He bites his lip as she reaches the first step. Finnick snatches a quick glance at his escort Titania, tears silently streaming down her face. His lips press into a firm line. Pathetic. Truly pathetic.

That's when they hear it.

"No!" A voice shrieks, ready to stop all this madness at once. One simple word, but it's so deep, so powerful. Finnick's eyes widen as he sees a small brunette push her way through the crowd. The girl is tiny, bigger than the blonde but not by much, with dark chocolate tresses braided back elaborately. She carries a powerful aura with her, he can sense it through the television, the way she doesn't even have to look at a person for them to take several cowering steps back. There's something about her, Finnick thinks, something he can't quite place. The camera can't focus in on her face as she hurries towards the younger girl, encasing her in her arms. The blonde -Primrose- is wailing hysterically now. The peacekeepers pull her off but the brunette slaps one right in the face. The other one hits her aside with the butt of his gun, causing her to fall forward flat on her face. The gun's raised for another strike, but the girl pushes herself up slightly with her rail thin arms, just enough to shout "I volunteer! I volunteer as tribute!"

Everything falls dead silent in the square. Eyes widen in disbelief, mouths agape. Same goes for Finnick. He stares at this girl incredulously, and he feels a weird sense of pride for her actions. He's also amazed, never has there once been a volunteer from District Twelve. At least not in his life time. A small smile plays on his lips as she mounts the stage. A tall, dark haired teen had taken Primrose away. She kicked and screamed, the whole scene was completely heartbreaking, but still Finnick smiled. Because this girl is rebellious, she is defiant. She isn't going to be put down. And somehow, he likes that. He knows he shouldn't. He knows their plan would all be easier if she was just another weakling that died in the bloodbath, but he thinks she can be useful. She can help. Clearly she won't enter the arena unrecognized. She has this effect, one that already has her entire district under her spell. He can feel the rest of Panem slowly slipping too, falling for her treacherously.

And then she turns around.

She stands proudly on top of the stage, camera zoomed in on her face, and Finnick can feel all the air being knocked out of his lungs. Her eyes, bright silver, shine with an eerie glow. Her beauty is haunting, unlike anything else he's ever seen. His sister, Veronica is gorgeous. He knows that, it is more of a fact than an opinion. He has grown accustom to boys swooning over her, using her, and he having to pretend to be okay with it. But this girl, she is different. Her beauty is indescribable. It isn't that perfect type of beauty so many people strive for. No, she is just... breathtaking.

"Katniss Everdeen." she breathes.

_Katniss_.

"I bet my hat that was your sister."

"Yes."

"Didn't want her to steal all the glory I see." Katniss just stares at her, expression impassive. Several seconds tick by, unnerving the escort as she mumbles a quiet 'alright' into the microphone and then proceeding onto the men.

Only one slips rest inside the reaping ball, yet the ever annoying Effie Trinket spends her time trying to find 'the perfect one' as her hand circles around needlessly. Finally she selects the ever present piece of paper, and opens it.

"Haymitch Abernathy." No surprise there. But Finnick is shocked to see how different he looks since last year's games. For once, he's not drunk. His beer belly's not as noticeable, and he looks slightly more muscular. Finnick's glad to know he put forth effort to put this plan in place. They all could carry out the rest without Haymitch, but it just wouldn't be the same. Underneath the drunkard is a rebel, thirsty for vengeance. If everything goes as planned, Finnick will make it to District Thirteen along with Ronnie, Haymitch, Johanna, Beetee, Wren, and hopefully a few others.

_Like Katniss._

Finnick shakes that thought out of his head. He has no obligation to her, and yet he can't shake this feeling that he is responsible for her. As if she lives or dies it's on him.

The television fasts forward to the pictures at the train station. Katniss is just as haunting, her guarded face staring expressionlessly at the camera. Something gold on her dress gleams in the sunlight, something that wasn't there before. It takes him a second to make out what it is. At first it's just a bird. A golden bird. But when he looks closer he can see it's not just a bird, but a mockingjay. He smiles.

A mockingjay.

He wish he could see the look on Snow's face

* * *

**Sorry that this took so long, as I promised this was Finnick's POV. Tell me what you think, anymore Finnick chapters in the future? Hope you enjoyed, if everything goes as planned they'll meet next chapter :D Who's excited?!**

**-Tris**


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: I do not own The Hunger Games... Obviously **

* * *

"Hello Katniss." he says, popping a sugar cube in his mouth and crunching it loudly. He expects her to look shocked, shy, possibly even faint. She _is_ meeting the famous Finnick Odair, is she not? Instead she looks at him blankly. Her guarded expression unnerves him, and for a split second he considers bolting, but he doesn't. He stands as confidently as he can, hoping the embarrassment of being practically nude doesn't show. You'd think he'd be use to it by now, seen as the sex-symbol of Panem, and he is, but around Katniss it makes him feel foolish. Almost insecure under her scrutiny. And that aggravates him. Finnick Odair is _not_ insecure.

"Hello Finnick." Is that irritation he senses in her voice? For some bizarre reason he has the urge to laugh. Not once had he meet someone who was instantly annoyed by his presence, and he finds it almost funny.

"Want a sugar cube?" she arches an eyebrow, silently saying "Seriously?" before turning her back to him and continuing to stroke the coal black horse, he no longer any interest to her. Once again he feels aggravated because she can't even be polite enough to engage in a short conversation with him. He worries for a moment if he's bipolar, his emotions changing in what feels like every second. That, or he's going crazy? He realizes then that it must be Katniss who's doing this to him, and he honestly doesn't know why. Now he feels frustrated. Damn her.

"No thanks," she replies curtly. "But I would love to borrow your outfit sometime." he feels his cheeks heat up. Is he... _blushing?_ Thank god her back is to him.

"Oh would you now," he whispers into her ear seductively. "I bet we could arrange that." Finnick sees the back of her neck flush pink faintly and he feels a sense of satisfaction knowing this girl is not completely made of stone.

Katniss whirls around to face him, her eyes widening when she notices their close proximity. Their faces are but only a couple centimeters apart and Finnick's eyes quickly flick down to her raspberry colored lips and his heart begins to race. They're so tempting, and the distance between them is so short...

Katniss takes a cautious step back, bumping into the horse behind her. A flicker of fear flashes in her stormy eyes for a quick second as she realizes she's trapped. Finnick feels guilty. He knows what it feels like to be put in situation with no way out, so he takes a couple steps back, leaving a comfortable space between them. He watches as she visibly relaxes, quirking a corner of her mouth up slightly in a way that's supposed to make her look casual.

Did he almost kiss her? No, that can't be right. He wouldn't have kissed her. Or would he of? He feels even more confused as he remembers how close the two were from each other, only centimeters apart.

A boisterous laugh comes from behind him, and Finnick turns around to see Gloss, the victor of the sixty-ninth Hunger Games, bent over in laughter at what he assumes must be the two of them.

"What?" Finnick asks, trying to keep any annoyance from showing.

"It's just," he pauses, letting what Finnick hopes is the last of his laughter out, before continuing. "I've never seen a girl scared to kiss you, Odair. It's actually quite hilarious." Finnick feels a scowl threatening to make an appearance on his features, but he withholds it. He has to play nice with the other careers, at least until the games begin.

He turns to look at Katniss, and sees that she has no issue letting her irritation show. She's practically glowering at Gloss, her cheeks bright pink with embarrassment, and Finnick's surprised she doesn't look even the tiniest but afraid of him despite the fact he's twice her size.

"Jackass." she mutters under her breath. For a moment, Gloss's mouth twitches. Finnick can tell she's getting under his skin, and that wave of responsibility washes over him again.

"Well aren't you a feisty one." Gloss tells Katniss, chuckling softly. "Perhaps there's a spot for you in our alliance. That is, if you can prove you're more than just another District Twelve twig." Katniss just stares at him blankly, and eventually Gloss gets that it's his que to leave.

Once he's out of earshot, Finnick whispers "Just watch out for One and Two, they're trouble," he feels someone's eyes on him and turns to see Eric, the tribute from Five, glaring him. He hates to admit it, but he's terrified of Eric. Everything about him screams insane, and Finnick's been avoiding him ever since he won his game ten years ago. "Oh, and definitely keep your distance from Eric. Who knows what goes on in his brain."

* * *

Katniss follows Finnick's gaze and finds herself facing that monstrous boy from District Five, the one with the red hair and translucent skin. "Oh, and definitely keep your distance from Eric. Who knows what goes on in his brain." It almost sounds as if Finnick's trying to _protect_ her. She feels confused and somewhat angry. She's perfectly capable in protecting herself, and she definitely doesn't need Finnick's help. Before Katniss can snap at him, he's already walking away towards the girl in the tree costume. Johanna Mason maybe? She can't tell, with those dreaded leaves surrounding her face, blocking Katniss from getting a clear view.

"Katniss?" a voice trills. She wants to growl in frustration. Why can't anyone see she clearly doesn't want company?

"Yes?" she sighs. She can tell the girl's from the Capitol by they way she stretches out the S's in her name. Her fashion is not completely outrageous compared to many of the other Capitol citizens, and Katniss could say she looked almost normal. Almost. She has on a strapless, sparkly pale pink gown that billows out around her ankles. Her caramel colored hair is left down, each curl precisely in the right place so Katniss can't tell if it is real or a wig. Her make-up is done to look natural with the exception of black butterfly winged eyelashes that she thinks are kind of cute. Her face is familiar, but Katniss can't recall her name. She wonders if she's just one of the other district's escorts, but the girl looks a little too young. But then again, with all the plastic surgery the Capitol surely has, it's hard to tell.

"Jaden Snow," she says, extending her hand out for Katniss to shake. The girl smiles, almost blinding Katniss with her incredibly white teeth. "But you can just call me Jade."

Jaden _Snow_? As in President Snow's granddaughter?

Katniss shakes Jade's hand, suddenly feeling immensely suspicious. The girl doesn't seem to notice, and Katniss can't tell whether her obliviousness is an act, or if she really is that dense.

Jade purses her lips in thought as she eyes Katniss's pin. "Is that a mockingjay?" she swallows and hopes that the girl didn't notice before nodding her head Yes. Jade smiles and it unnerves her, she swears she looks almost devilish before her face flashes back to that childishly curious way. Her icy blue eyes glint with what Katniss wants to say is approval. Her mouth opens to say something else but is interrupted as Cinna, Portia, and Haymitch approach them.

"Cinna!" Jade pipes, running over and pecking him on the cheek.

"Oh Jade, it's been a while, hasn't it?" The two chuckle softly like old friends and Katniss wonders if they really _are _friends. For some unknown reason, she finds it unsettling. How could her friend be friends with _her, _the spawn of the devil?

"And Portia, you look lovely as always."

"Thank you Jaden, you do too." She giggles and Katniss rolls her eyes.

"Well I best be going now," she says, sighing softly. "It was nice meeting you Katniss, and I'm glad I was able to talk to you again Cinna. You too Portia." she eyes Haymitch for a moment, the two of them staring at each other wordlessly before they both settle for just a curt nod.

"Good luck," she tells Katniss, leaning in towards her ear. "And may the odds be _ever_ in your favor." she whispers silkily, no trace of an accent whatsoever.

Without being given anytime to concentrate on the words just spoken to her, Katniss is standing on the chariot, hand encased in Haymitch's larger one, dark cape engulfed in vibrant flames, as she feigns excitement, blowing kisses and smiling to the colorful crowd. With her free hand she catches a single rose. It's petals an artificially dark crimson color. And she's not sure why yet, but some part of her mind tells herself to hate this rose, and all roses, for just by looking at it she has the sudden urge to puke.

* * *

Katniss lets her legs dangle off the edge of the roof as she sits back and gazes up at the stars. She still has the rose. For some bizarre reason she didn't want to let it go, so she twirls it around in her small hand aimlessly, and concentrates on counting the stars. There are so many, some brighter than others, some larger. Her father use to name all these different constellations, none of which Katniss could remember or find. One of the many things about her father that's slowly slipping from her memory. She suddenly feels like bursting into tears. The situation she's in seems so hopeless, so impossible she just wants to cry. Sure she can hunt, but what is that compared to twenty-three victors. And even if that was enough, who's to say she'd be able to _kill_. That thought alone causes guilt to swell up in her chest, forming a huge lump in her throat.

There's no way in hell she can do this.

Katniss hears the door behind her creak open slowly, but she doesn't turn around to see who it is. The person sits beside her, softly saying "Hey sweetheart." She can tell by the pet name that it's Haymitch, but she doesn't look to confirm, just continues to stare up at the night sky.

"I hate roses." she whispers, not trusting her voice. She rips a petal off and tosses it over the edge. She watches it fall, getting closer and closer to the ground when suddenly it stops, a small burst of light is seen, and then the petal comes straight back towards her. It lands on Katniss's lap, its dark crimson color looking like blood against her soft white night gown. The edges of the petal are slightly singed, and a sense of frustration courses through her. She wants this rose gone now. Katniss begins to violently shed the rose of its petals, determinably tossing each one off of the roof. Tears of vexation fill her eyes as they all come back with a vengeance. She cries out dejectedly, folding her arms over her chest to keep from destroying all the flowers in the garden.

"Kid, are you alright?" Haymitch asks.

"Do I look alright?" she hisses, clenching her fists. She turns to Haymitch, ready to explode at him and tell him to stay out of her damn business, perhaps even slap him across the face, but then she looks at him. Really looks at him. His grey eyes, unruly dark curls, olive skin. She realizes then that he looks like her father. A lot like her father. And suddenly it's all too much for Katniss as she pulls her knees to her chest and begins to sob. She wants to go home, she wants to go home, she wants to go home. She wants to be with Prim, Gale, Madge, mother, heck she even wants Buttercup. She wants to be curled up in bed holding her sister as the sweet relief of not having been reaped lulls them to sleep. She wants to have had the feast her and Gale had begun preparing for their families to celebrate one more year of life. Honestly, she wants to be _anywhere_ but here. Anywhere but this damn cage that's just waiting to send her to hell where more likely than not, her life will be claimed. She's not ready to die, she realizes. There's so much in life she has yet to have done. She hasn't repaired her and her mother's relationship, she hasn't brought Prim to the Hob, she hasn't shown Gale the lake in the woods, god she hasn't even had her first kiss! And she cries even harder as she realizes how truly _pathetic_ she's being.

She feels Haymitch drape his arm over her, and she doesn't have enough energy to shake him off, so she lets him comfort her, because what else really could she do? He just sits in silence as she lets everything out. She knows this is a bad idea, letting a man that must die for her survival get close to her like this, but at the moment she couldn't care less. She just lets her bittersweet imagination pretend that this is her father here with her, not a future corpse, and lives in the daydream without one thought of returning to reality.

* * *

**I am soooo sorry about this late update. So many things had happened this month so far, my sister had surgery and my grandmother had a heart attack. They're both okay, thankfully, but I've been so stressed that I've been pouring myself into my writing, but all of it has sucked. I must have written this chapter like a hundred different ways, each being totally different, before suddenly I wrote this all today with no writer's block whatsoever. So I'm so psyched! I did rush this though because I was impatient to post it, but yayyyy! It's done! And I'm so freaked about all the support you guys have given me! I'd like to thank all my reviewers;**

**_toritwilight504_**

**_bellanator116_**

**_VikiHungergame1_**

**_theawesomeme_**

**_Mia_**

**_samiesimpson1_**

**_wintercherry1912_**

**_firework7_**

**_sunflower2012_**

**_remuslives_**

**And of course my various unnamed Guest reviewers :) You guys are amazing!**

**-Tris **

**P.S. HAPPY 1st ANNIVERSARY OF THE HUNGER GAMES PREMIER! :D Review if you remembered that too. Or just review if you feel like reviewing, that'll make me extremely happy too ;)**

**Have a good Saturday guys!**


	5. Chapter 5

_Definitely keep your distance from Eric. Who knows what goes on in his brain_

Finnick's voice repeats like a mantra inside her head as she notices the District Five male, Eric, watching her yet again from the fire making station. Katniss chose this station because it was hidden from everyone else -save for the fire makers- for it was concealed behind the large rock wall, her crave for privacy currently backfiring at her. His stares are making her feel uncomfortable, and she resists the urge to fidget. She'll be damned if she shows him any sign of nervousness, her pride stronger than her fear, and tries to concentrate on the knot she's tying. Over, under, pull, repeat.

She continues this for several more minutes, growing more and more frustrated by the second, until she feels someone's presence behind her.

"Go away Haymitch, I'm trying to concentrate." Instantly, a wave of guilt washes over her as her words sound harsher than she intended. After last night she's felt awkward around him. She hasn't said much to him, not even a thank you, feeling ashamed every time the two meet eyes.

"Someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning." The voice isn't Haymitch's. It's hoarser, thicker, and she whirls around to find herself face to face with Eric himself. Joy.

"What do you want, Five?" she asks flatly. Her patience level is already low, if not gone, and she isn't in the mood to chat.

"You play the cold stone bitch angle pretty well, don't you agree?" She feels herself freeze.

"Did you just call me a bitch?"

"Technically I said it was an angle. Thought I was complementing you." Katniss looks at him blankly for a moment before returning to her knot tying, hoping he'd get the drift and walk away. She's not that lucky.

"I could give you lessons if you want, no charge for a pretty girl like you." he whispers into her ear huskily. She's feeling really uncomfortable now, and her first instinct is to step back and slap him, but she restrains herself. Haymitch had warned her that it's crucial not to make any enemies. So she'll play it cool. She can do that. Right?

"Oh yeah, what's your specialty?" She relieved that her voice sounds level, not betraying the fear she feels growing by the second.

"Axes, maces, swords, anything you want babe." His fingers trail down the exposed skin on her arm, his breath hot on her neck. She's panicking now. Really panicking. She doesn't know what to do, she doesn't have any experience with guys. Especially psychotic ones who are double her size.

"Come on," he whispers, his hand wrapped firmly around her wrist. He tugs at it gently, urging her to move. Why oh why did she choose the knot tying station of all stations.

Fuck Haymitch and fuck Eric. She doing this her own way.

"Get off," she hisses, attempting to yank her wrist out of his grasp. He doesn't falter.

"Oh now, don't be like that." he says soothingly, putting his free hand on her waist. "You know this whole training shit is way overrated. Why don't we just skip it and head up to-"

"I said get off." Katniss growls, finally wriggling out of his grasp. She's not free for long though. With lightning fast speed, Eric has her spun around, back against the wall, and wrists pinned above her head. His chest is pressed flat against her, and he smirks wickedly.

"Is that better, _girl on fire?"_ She cringes at the nickname, struggling to loosen his grip on her wrists. She quickly realizes that it's futile, the more she fights, the tighter he squeezes. She bites her lip to keep from calling out in pain. It hurts. It really hurts. The pain is searing, and she can vaguely feel tears pricking her eyes.

"Don't you find this kind of pathetic?" a voice chirps. Katniss can't help the sigh of relief that emits from her at the sound of another human's voice. "Hitting on a girl more than half your age?" Katniss watches as Eric's face flushes with rage. He tightens his grip -if that's even humanly possible- on her wrists and she's horrified as she lets out a soft squeak. That seems to appease Eric's anger somewhat, as the corners of his lips quirk upward slightly in amusement.

"Ah, if it isn't one of the Odair sluts." he says, smirking at what he thinks is a great comeback. Katniss turns her head slightly to see the District Four girl, Veronica, with her arms crossed over her chest impatiently.

"Original," she mutters facetiously. "Now, can you give us some space please? I'd like to perfect my knot tying skills without having to see your face."

Eric snarls, abruptly releasing his grasp on her wrists, letting her fall to the ground painfully. Katniss grimaces as she watches Eric grab Veronica's forearms, forcefully slamming her into the metal wall. She lets out a strangled whimper and Katniss feels angry. This was her fight. Not Veronica's.

"What the hell is going on?" All three sets of eyes flick over to see Finnick approaching them. He's mad. Beyond mad, he's furious. Cheeks flushed red, nostrils flared, green eyes narrowed into tiny slits. It's hard to imagine, the bubbly, flirtatious Finnick she had met last night turning into this Finnick. This Finnick was dangerous, his eyes glinting murderously, on the verge of mere insanity, and it scares Katniss shitless.

She should just leave now, pretend none of this even happened, because after all there's only one winner. It looks like Finnick could handle this situation, probably hasn't even noticed her presence in the first place, but nevertheless she shakily stands up, gathering every last bit of strength in her body, and throws herself at Eric's side. He doesn't move much, but successfully losses his grip on Veronica.

"You little bi-"

"Stay away from them." Finnick says in terrifyingly calm voice, his arm wrapped around Five's neck in a headlock. His eyes flick over to his sister, watching her fight unconsciousness as she squeezes her temples to suppress some of the pain.

"Please, take her somewhere else." he pleads, turning to Katniss. She gasps as Eric slams him into the wall behind them. Hard. Effectively loosening Finnick's grip on his neck.

"Go," he commands through clenched teeth. Katniss stands frozen in place as Eric turns the tables and punches Finnick right in the nose. Instantly, dark, crimson blood trickles down his face, slowly traveling over his lips and onto his chin.

"Katniss, I said _go_." And like a coward, Katniss helps steady Veronica on her feet, wrapping her arm around her waist as support, and gets out of there as quickly as possible.

Katniss closes her eyes as soon as the elevator doors seal shut. Taking a deep breath, she tries to calm herself, not even fully comprehending what the hell had just happened. She's surprised as she feels an emotion, one she can't quite place, swell in her chest. Her heart continues to beat erratically, and she wonders why it hasn't yet slowed.

_Guilt_.

The concept is somewhat foreign to her, so it took her a moment to put her finger on it. Guilt. She's actually feeling guilty about Finnick. She shakes her head to clear it. She can't be having this feeling towards him. She needs to think of them as animals, not people. And she learned a long time ago not to feel guilty about animals.

Yet she can't help thinking about what's going between the two right now, if both of them are still fighting or if one of the peacekeepers had come to save the day. Now that she thinks about it, what would the peacekeepers do if they saw the two of them fighting? Would Finnick be in trouble?

She sighs, shaking her head. She has to stop thinking about him. He is _not_, and will never be, her problem.

* * *

**FIFTY REVIEWS?!**

**Common guys get real. **

**Is this some kind of sick joke?**

**You guys are so so so SO amazing, I never thought I'd get so many reviews after chapter FOUR?! :O As I already said- AMAZING! Which is why I have a little gift for you...**

**Get ready. Drum roll please...**

**Bribing- *cough* I mean CONTEST TIME!**

**So whoever happens to be my lucky 100th reviewer will get to -wait for it- SUBMIT THEIR OWN ORIGINAL CHARACTER! **

**I'll explain more once the time gets closer, but I will say one thing; guests will _not_ be eligible. If the 100th reviewer happens to be a guest, the prize will be given to the 101st reviewer, and if that reviewer happens to be a guest then it will be awarded to the 102nd reviewer, and so on, and so on. **

**I know this sucks, I really love my guest reviewers. I know I can't thank you personally for all your support, but I really really do appreciate it. It means the world to me, and many of my reviews given by guests happen to be my favorites. They're so sweet and kind, and if I could personally give each of you a hug I would.**

**Well... now that I've written that it sounds kind of creepy.**

**But anyways, the reason why I can't let guests win is that I can't identify you. Even if you give yourself an individual guest name -like CocoBananaChunks...?- some loser could pretend to be you and claim the prize. So if you want to win, please make your own account :)**

**Thanks again for all your support,**

**-Tris**


	6. Chapter 6

**Okayyyy... So it's practically June, and the last time I updated was April 12th.**

**...**

**Yeah, I'm bad.**

**Sorrrryyyyyyy. I could give a long spiel about finals, family drama, and yadayada. But who cares?! I'm not going to keep you from waiting any longer, so go enjoy my newest chapter, or not... everyone is entitled to their own opinions.**

* * *

"Pathetic," Finnick's deep voice muses. Katniss cringes as the knife is pressed harder against her throat. She feels something warm trickle down her neck, whether it is blood or sweat she isn't sure. Tears begin to blur her vision as she realizes that this is the end. There is absolutely no way out.

Enobaria chuckles, exposing her perfectly sharp, golden fangs. She runs her tongue over her upper lip, as if savoring this moment. "Truly pathetic," she mocks. "You know, your sister is more of a girl on fire than you ever were."

_Prim_.

"Yeah, why don't you take a look." Gloss taunts. Katniss' eyes widen in horror as she sees Prim tied to the base of the tree, a look of betrayal on her too pale face.

"You liar!" she screams. "You dirty little liar, you promised I'd be okay!" Katniss' face blanches. She searches for something, anything to say, but she remains mute. Just watches in agony as Finnick strikes a match and tosses it into a patch of grass only a foot away from where Prim sits. The whole world seems to be in slow motion as the ground is ignited by flames, slowly inching its way closer and closer to her sister.

A scream tears through her lips, shrill and bloodcurdling. It leaves her throat burning and raw, but she doesn't stop. Her sister's eyes bore into her treacherously, making her insides feel sick. She retches before she can stop herself. Enobaria steps aside quickly, just dodging the bile, and lets Katniss fall to ground like the weakling she is.

She somehow finds the strength within her to get up, sprinting faster than humanely possible towards Prim.

"Stop her!" Gloss yells. She gasps in anguish as she feels the three spears, from what can only be a trident, pierce her back. She crumples to the ground immediately, facing Prim. The flames have already engulfed her legs, and Katniss can't find the energy to do anymore than just watch. Her sister's screams continue to echo in her mind until suddenly they cease. Sweat drips down her forehead, face contorted with agony.

"You promised." she croaks, her eyes closing.

"I'm sorry." Katniss breathes. "I'm so, so sorry." And her eyes close too, world fading quickly. She deserves this. If Prim has to go, at least she won't have to go alone.

* * *

He checks his watch. 11:43. About fifteen minutes early. He thinks about going back to his room for the time being, but decides against it. Instead he presses the twelfth button and the elevator shoots up towards the top floor.

He checks his appearance in the shiny glass wall. His hair is disheveled and unruly, and his face is completely covered in shiny pink lip gloss. He groans, straightening his shirt and trying to tame his uncontrollable curls. The doors slide open and he walks down the short hallway to the front door. Finnick knocks softly, hoping he doesn't wake up anyone else. No answer.

Well, Haymitch did tell him to walk straight in.

The door opens soundlessly, and he pads through the pent house in search of the entrance to the roof. He comes across the living room, a small body curled up on the black leather couch.

_Katniss_.

He can't help but tread as quietly as possible towards where she lay asleep. She fidgets around, murmuring something under her breath, a single tear running down her cheek.

He thinks about just leaving her there, she _will_ wake up eventually. Haymitch told him directly to make sure no one knew he was here, but as he takes a step away from the couch, a deep sense of guilt swells in his stomach. He knows first hand how awful nightmares can be, and that the sooner you can get out of them, the better. So he kneels down beside her and shakes her shoulder gently.

Immediately, her eyes shoot open, wild and slightly crazed. She lets out a godawful screech, and Finnick tries to shush her.

"Katniss, shhh, you'll wake th-"

"You killed her! You _fucking killed_ her!" she screams repeatedly. Finnick's eyes widen in shock, shaking his head slightly.

"Who-"

"You killed her." she sniffles, beginning to sob. Tears stream down her face, causing stray strands of dark hair to stick to her splotchy red cheeks. Katniss pulls her knees in even tighter to her chest, furiously trying to wipe away her wet tears.

Finnick runs his hand through her long locks in attempt to soothe her, but only results in her letting out another loud wail. Her shoulders continue to shake convulsively and Finnick begins to panic. Whenever Ronnie or Annie have nightmares, he could calm them down by just being there for them, but that seems to have the opposite effect on Katniss.

She buries her face in the red velvet pillow beside her, clutching the sides with dear life. Finnick's hand hovers over her in conflict. He honestly has no idea what to do. He wants her to stay pure, sane, unbroken, and just simply _together_, unlike the rest of them who have gone through hell and back. It's too early for her to be having nightmares, and Finnick doesn't care how childish he sounds when he says this, but this just _isn't_ _fair_. None of it. The reapings, the games, god. _The_ _never-ending_ _games. _Theystole his innocence, his freedom, his childhood, they might as well have stolen his life for all it's been worth.

_Stop_.

Finnick takes a deep breath. One, two, three, exhale. He relaxes, letting go of all the tension. _Not now,_ he chides himself. _I can't keep thinking like that._

He looks over at Katniss, who too has some-what relaxed. Her convulsions have notched down to slight trembles, and the crazy glint in her eyes is gone, leaving glassy grey orbs staring back at him blankly._  
_

"Why are you here?" she croaks. He hesitates for a moment. He can't tell her the real reason he's here. His eyes trail down to her wrists, and in the room's dim lighting, he can faintly see black and blue bruises wrapping around them likes vines to a tree, and all the events from earlier suddenly come crashing back.

"I came to make sure you were alright." he whispers. "You know, from earlier." It's not a total lie, he was really worried about how she was doing.

The corners of her lips curl up slightly, and Finnick's heart skips a beat. "In the middle of the night?" she teases. He chuckles softly.

"Only for you." She keeps her lazy smile in place, and Finnick realizes just how pretty it is. How much more beautiful it makes her seem. It takes every bit of self control to keep his own grin from spreading ear to ear once it dawns on him that _she_ is smiling for _him_.

Katniss sits up, scooting to one end of the couch and patting the other, motioning for him to sit beside her.

"That nightmare, it seemed pretty bad." he says gently. "Do you wanna talk about it?" He feels Katniss tense beside him, and instantly he regrets what he said.

She doesn't answer at first, but then decides to change the subject. "What happened between you and Eric after I left. You look as good as new."

"The Capitol can fix anything." he mutters bitterly. Without meaning to, Finnick gently picks up her bruised wrist and pulls it closer to his face to examine it. He runs his thumb over the angry black and blue marks, up and down and in a circle. "Does this hurt?" he whispers. She shakes her head side to side ever so slightly. Finnick pulls it to his lips and kisses it softly. "How about that?"

"No." she says it so quietly, it's practically inaudible, but he hears it, and it's just enough to keep him going.

Their eyes lock. Sea green on steel grey. He knows this is a bad idea, and no doubt she's thinking the same thing, but he can't help but lean in closer, and closer. Katniss is only a mere couple centimeters away from him, just like what felt like forever ago, but in reality was only yesterday, but this time, there is no fear in her eyes.

This moment is going to be perfect, no doubt about it. It must be a sign, saying that things are finally looking up for the two of them. He smiles. Things _must_ be looking up for them.

"When I told you to get your ass over here, it wasn't to watch you play with my district partner."

_Shit_.

Some sign.

* * *

**Haha, I'm such a tease. But come on, it's only chapter, what, six? Where's the fun in that?! Okay, okay, I'm gonna try to rush them into the games soon, that's when all the drama begins. Not much more Finniss (or whatever dafuq you wanna call it) until then though, sorry. I _will_ try to make the chapters a little longer, and hopefully -_hopefully_- quicker updates. No promises though. Sorry. Again.**

**And one last thing... Thanks SOOOO much you guys for all the reviews guys, I got more than twenty for that last chapter. _Twenty! _Thats just crazy. You have NO idea how much each and every review means to me. And that means, less than thirty reviews to go until we reach 100! Yay! **

**Stay safe kids ;)**

**-Tris**


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